


Knight in Woollen Armour

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Christmas fic, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:35:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: The shittiest Sevenmas of Brienne's life gets a whole lot more shitty as her car gets stuck in the snow in the middle of nowhere.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 12
Kudos: 139
Collections: JB Online 2019 Advent Calendar Collection





	Knight in Woollen Armour

Here’s the thing. When you are six feet tall, packed with muscles and splattered with freckles, you’re not allowed to get angry. Women really shouldn’t get too angry anyway, but definitely not ugly women. They couldn’t shout, bitch or curse a fucker out. Women like Brienne couldn’t be too sensitive either, fragility from such a brutish being was ludicrous bordering onto comedic. Jolly they could be. The big jolly woman was perfectly acceptable. Welcome even. But there were times that jolliness was neither appropriate nor manageable.

But the number one rule for women like Brienne; the absolute golden truth, was that under no circumstances could she ever, _ever_ cry. A single stoic tear slipping down her cheek was permissible, but full on snot and blubbering was out of the question.

So, unable to cry, unable to shout and unable to smile, Brienne was left with one option.

She ran.

Running lacked dignity and left Renly and his family all the freedom to paint whatever picture of her they wished. Screaming, sobbing, retching, etc... Turning into the She-Hulk. But better to leave them suspicious than confirm them. She managed to maintain a brisk walk to the front door, not even stopping to snatch up her coat at she broke into the thick falling snow. She drove as fast as the icy roads and white sky allowed her to, far from the house, far from Renly and his family her heartbreak, until she pulled up into a layby and let it all out.

The walls of the car and their rapidly frosting up windows acted as a shield from the world, allowing her to gulp and choke and weep to her heart’s content. Initially, the sprint and the tears and her own mortification warmed her against the cold, but as she regained some composure, she began to notice the cold spreading through her.

Grimacing in dismay at the snow, Brienne turned the key and tried at the pedal, hoping at the very least to get somewhere safe. The engine roared and the car shuddered, but the snow had fallen thick and fast and she was indisputably, catastrophically stuck.

“Shit,” she muttered. She whacked the dashboard. “Shit, shit, shit!”

No coat. No phone (that was in her coat pocket). No clue as to where she was. She turned on the hazards lights and cranked up the heating and prayed _someone_ would find her before she ran out of petrol.

“Well done, Brienne Tarth,” she said, glaring bitterly at her reflection. “Well _done._ You fucking genius. This is what you get when you step out of line.”

She looked even uglier than usual, her twice broke nose pink and sniffling and her eyes red, her thick lips pulled into the most hideous frown. She had been looking forward to this Sevenmas. For once, she was excited. Nervous, certainly. Who wasn’t nervous about meeting their boyfriend’s family for the first time? But it was exciting as well. Her and Renly’s first Sevenmas together as a couple, and evidently their last. For there was no way they could ‘still be friends’ after the way he treated her.

Brienne would have liked to tell herself it was out of pride and self-esteem that she swore never to speak to Renly again. But in truth she knew she would miss his friendship, for it was the only she ever really knew. It was the humiliation. The knowledge that if she continued trailing after him as she had done ever since they met in College, that she would forever be the stupid girl who truly thought that a man like Renly would want her as something other than a beard.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_

Trembling overtook Brienne’s body. Harsh, violent tremors ripping through her bones. The tears started up again, loud and wet. Even as her muscles ached and her skin stung, she could not stop, until a large banging on the glass brought her out of her funk. Brienne hastily wiped her nose and looked round, peering through the snow to see a man’s face scowling at her. Out of other options, she rolled down her window and prayed that she wasn’t letting in an axe maniac.

(Which, knowing her luck…)

“I was tapping for five minutes,” the man shouted above the howling wind, his voice muffled in layers of wool.

“Sorry,” Brienne grunted, sniffling into sleeve.

The man looked over his shoulder and nodded at the door.

“Can you let me in so we can talk clearly?” he asked.

Brienne wound up the window and opened the door, the man slipping in quickly and slamming it shut behind him. White flakes melted to tiny droplets as they drifted off his coat. He tugged off the thick scarf covering half his face, revealing himself to be…

Revealing himself to be…

Revealing…

_Gosh._

From the scarf emerged what was probably the most divinely crafted chin the Smith had ever carved. Truly a work of the Gods. Gold locks poked out from beneath a lumpy woollen hat, and in the light of the car Brienne could clearly see the sharp green eyes watching her in annoyance.

“You’re Cersei’s brother?” Brienne guessed. He could be no one else. Jaime, the twin brother who was running late. The twin brother who had made it clear that he was only coming because his younger brother was coming, who in turn had made it clear that _he_ was only coming because Robert always got the really good stuff out of his wine stores at Sevenmas.

He nodded, jaw clenching at the mere mention of his sister’s name.

“Renly rang to say I was to look out for you. He knew your old banger couldn’t handle this weather and he was worried you would get stuck. Of course, he could have come looking for your himself, it’s the least he could have done for his beard, the selfish cunt.”

“Don’t call him that!” Brienne snapped. The Lannister raised his hands in a mock surrender.

“My apologies,” he said, indolently warming his hands on the fan. “Your loyalty to that puffed up, pampered piece of shit does you credit.”

Brienne glared at Jaime. For all that Renly had done to her, he hadn’t intended to deceive her. Brienne believed him when he said that he truly wanted things to work out between them, but he just couldn’t keep lying to himself. With her height and muscles, Brienne’s glare was usually something to behold, but in this instance the overall effect was weakened by the face her nose was still dripping.

“You might as well turn your hazard lights off now,” Jaime instructed her. “No one else will be coming down this way in this weather. I’ll warm myself up a bit and then we can get in my car and head up to the house.”

“Will my car be safe here?” Brienne asked, looking anxiously through the window.

“No,” Jaime said bluntly. “But neither will you, if we stay here. My car has driven through worse weather than this. I suggest you forget about the car and settle for getting back to the house in one piece.”

“Joy,” Brienne muttered, already picturing herself stuck in the house with Renly and his family, trying to ignore the oh so insightful observations of his boorish brother and catty sister-in law that if Renly was to try to get it on with a girl, Brienne was the _obvious_ option. Sevenmas couldn’t be more awkward if she joined Dad on his single’s cruise in Southern Isles.

She didn’t notice she was tearing again up until she felt a cloth being rubbed harshly against her sore cheeks.

“What are you doing?” she spluttered, batting away Jaime’s hands.

“You don’t want to get to your cheeks wet in this weather,” he explained calmly, folding up his handkerchief. “Your face will end up iced over in frost.”

“I suppose I’m just not looking forward to being the most pathetic person at Sevenmas Dinner,” Brienne said sharply. “Next to me, the stuffed turkey will look like it’s winning at life.”

“I wouldn’t build a trophy case for Most Pathetic Guest at Sevenmas just yet,” Jaime informed her. “At least your awkward ex isn’t your twin sister.”

Brienne’s eyes widened to comical lengths, practically bouncing out on stalks like in a kid’s cartoon. That’s if kid’s cartoons had incest in them.

“What, you and Cersei?” she stuttered.

“Not fancying your odds now, are you? Think you will be content with the silver?” Jaime asked with a smirk.

Brienne blinked, her frazzled brain trying to cope with the knew information. “Why are you telling me this?” she demanded.

Jaime shrugged. “Well I have to defend my title as reigning champion, don’t I? Although I suppose I lose points for being the one to break it off with Cersei when I found her in bed with our cousin.”

“Didn’t think she would cheat on you like she cheated on her husband?” Brienne asked with a raised eyebrow. “First rule of having an affair, expect to get a taste of your own medicine.”

“For some reason, I thought the fact we were twins made us a special case,” Jaime said lightly.

“Oh, you’re a special case, no need to worry about that,” Brienne assured him.

Jaime smiled and bowed in a show of false humility. He took her hands in his as though to kiss them, but instead he began to rub and blow warm air onto Brienne’s cracked, clenched fingers. She half-heartedly tried to pull them away, the sensation of warmth kissing her skin too blissful to truly try and break free. 

Jaime Lannister might have been a sarcastic, condescending ex-sister shagger, but he was a sarcastic, condescending ex-sister shagger with _magical_ hands.

“Just warming you up before we face the cold to get to my car,” Jaime explained. “I suspect all ambulances will be accounted for in this weather, so you will be out of luck if your fingers start to fall off. At least we won’t be short of ice to freeze them on.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brienne snapped, snatching her hands away.

“I was just being chivalrous,” Jaime said defensively. “Seeing as I am essentially your knight in shining armour.”

“My knight?” Brienne scoffed.

Jaime nodded seriously.

“Sworn to protect women, the weak, the innocent, and to guard the realms of men.”

“That’s the vow of the Night’s Watch,” Brienne corrected him instinctively.

Something boyish lit up in Jaime’s eyes.

“You know the vows of the Night’s Watch?” he asked in delight.

“I got a Bachelor in Medieval Studies,” Brienne told him, her lips tugging into a begrudging smile.

“But this is excellent!” he crowed. “We can just spend this shitty Sevenmas together, talking about Knights and White Walkers and the Battle of the Five Kings! In-between bouts of bitching about deceitful boyfriends and toxic sister lovers that any decent therapist would have told me to go no contact with by now.”

“Ok,” Brienne said tentatively. That didn’t sound too bad. Well, except for that bit about Jaime’s sister. But if he was willing to be a shoulder to cry on about Renly and discuss the merits of Valyrian steal vs Dragon glass, she couldn’t begrudge him that. And he had warmed up her fingers so nicely. “We can make that happen.”

“Perfect!” Jaime beamed. “Who knows, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. We might even tell our children about this moment. The day I saw Mummy crying in the snow because her crush from college turned out to be gay, so I distracted her by telling her about the time I used to pound their Aunt Cersei whilst her husband was passed out drunk in the next room.”


End file.
